Hi, Brent. Good to meet you,” said Mrs. Chamberlin as she stepped out of the car, allowing Brent to crawl into the backseat of the two-door, olive-colored Ford LTD Brougham.

“Good to meet you, too,” said Brent as he climbed in. The car was warm compared to the forty-degree temperature from which he came. “Nice car, Coach. What year is it, a ’71?”

“Close,” came the reply. “It’s a ’70. And, thanks. It’s the only toy that my wife allows me to have and tinker with in my spare time. How’re you doing?”

“Nervous.”

Coach Chamberlin smiled. “I can understand that.” He put the car in gear, pulled away from the curb, and they were on their way.

About twenty minutes later, they entered the parking lot of a large church called Forest Acres Community Chapel. The parking lot was nearly full, and Brent could see a half-dozen people standing outside of the main entrance wearing suits. An uncomfortable feeling stirred within him.

“Umm, Coach, I thought you said we weren’t going to church.”

“We’re not. Not exactly. Like I told you earlier today, we started off small. But, since we’ve gotten so big we’ve had to find larger places to meet. This church graciously allows us to use their facility every Thursday evening. Don’t worry, Brent. I’m not throwing you to the wolves,” he said with a snicker.

“Good,” said Brent, not so sure he could count on that.

After the car was parked they proceeded through the dipping temperatures to the entrance. They were met at the front door by a man in a three-piece suit with short, well-groomed, blonde hair. “George! Good to see you! And Cheryl, I’m glad you could make it.” After shaking their hands, the man turned to Brent and extended his hand.

Brent took it and began to shake it when the man said, “God bless you, brother! It’s good to see you, also!”

Unsure how to respond, Brent said, “Uhh … yeah. You, too.” What have I gotten myself into?

Once inside the church they hung up their coats, crossed through the foyer, and entered the large sanctuary. Brent had never seen such a large church before. If his coach had been right, and there actually were close to seven hundred people attending this meeting, then it was obvious that this place could easily hold a thousand. What kind of church draws a thousand people? Brent wondered.

He was glad to see that there was a lot of available seating toward the back of the large room. He started for one of the back rows, but his coach stopped him dead in his tracks. “Brent, looks like there’s some seating available up front, about the fifth row. How about we sit up there?”

“Oh. Okay, that’s fine.” It wasn’t fine. And how was it that a building could make him feel so edgy? He had a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach and the mental image of a warning sign with flashing red lights. Part of him definitely did not want to be here. Strike that. Most of him did not want to be here.

They found seats in the fifth row in the right-most section of the church. As Brent looked around, he noted the breadth of the two center sections, a wide aisle that stretched the width of the sanctuary, and two equally impressive side sections, also separated by aisles.

On the stage were several people preparing instruments for play. Brent was taken aback as he saw electric guitars, an electric bass, drums, a piano, and several microphone stands. In a church? This is weird!

His attention was pulled away from the stage when he heard a man’s husky voice to his left. “George! God bless you, man!”

Coach Chamberlin stood up, crossed in front of Brent, and stepped out into the aisle. Brent watched as his coach grabbed a burly, bearded man, also in a black t-shirt, and hugged him. There were tattoos the length of both of his arms and a long chain that extended from his wide, black leather belt to a wallet in his back pocket. This guy looked like he was part of the Hell’s Angels.

“Chuck! It’s good to see you, buddy! Man, it’s been a couple months. Where’ve you been?” asked George.

In a voice that sounded like it had been distorted by years of smoking, he said, “Went down to the Dominican Republic with some brothers and did some church reconstruction. Hurricane Samuel devastated that island. But, man, did I have a blast! Saw sixteen people come to Christ while I was there! It was awesome!”

Did he just hear this guy right? Brent was struck by the fact that a man, whose appearance could scare away his entire basketball squad, was all about doing church stuff. He doesn’t look the part, Brent’s mind retorted.

“That’s great!” said George. “Praise God! That’s what it’s all about, isn’t it?”

“Yep!” Chuck looked down and studied Brent for a moment. “Who’s your young cohort in crime?”

George turned to look at Brent and waved for him to join them in the aisle. “Brent, I’d like you to meet another of the original twelve … or thirteen … I can never remember which…”

“Thirteen,” said Chuck. “Remember how Tina used to say, back then, that we were like a coven for Jesus?” He laughed heartily, his thick baritone voice causing people around them to turn and look. “But, then, your mind was still a little fried from all those drugs you used to do.” He laughed again.

What? Drugs? Coach Chamberlin? Brent could scarcely take it in.

“Oookay, Chuckie. That’s a little bit too much information to be released to the general public,” said George with an ever-broadening smile. “But, yes, now that you mention it, I do remember Tina saying that. Anyway, this young man is Brent Lawton, one of the star players on my basketball team this year.”

A thick calloused hand extended toward Brent. Brent took it, expecting his fingers to be broken in his vice-like hands. But, instead, he was greeted with a firm, friendly handshake and a big smile. “Good to meet ya, Brent. Your coach is a good man and an even better friend. Probably wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for him.”

“Good to meet you,” responded Brent in mild bewilderment.

“You give me too much credit, Chuck. Besides…”

The conversation was cut off by a loud drum solo onstage. George and Chuck simply raised hands toward each other, smiled, and parted ways. George and Brent stepped back to their seats and sat down. George put his arm around his wife, a gesture that wasn’t lost on Brent.

That’s pretty cool.

The drum solo was loud, and Brent sat glued listening to it. Then it segued into music that could have been heard on any of the local rock stations. What in the world? Brent’s mind kept getting blown away. In a church?!

Once the singing started, he realized the difference. This music was rock-n-roll, but the lyrics were about Jesus. They spoke of his power, of his love, of his forgiveness.

I’ve just entered the Twilight Zone.

9:20 P.M.

TIME PASSED QUICKLY. Brent was still sitting in the pew, and he couldn’t believe what he was about to say. “Coach, that was incredible! I’ve never heard anybody talk about the Book of Revelation before.”

“Trust me; I know what you’re experiencing. I’ve been listening to Bob share messages like this for years, and I’m still captivated.”

There was no opportunity to discuss things further, because soft music began to play in the background as Bob Naze began to speak again. “Friends, we’ve had a good time tonight. At least I have.” There was a ripple of laughter in the crowd. “But, the sole purpose of these meetings is not to have fun, but rather to let you know that there is a God who loves you. Jesus Christ is real, he is alive, and he really does care.

“I’m going to ask that everyone in the sanctuary stand up.”

There was a soft rumble of people standing, Bibles being placed down, people preparing themselves for what was next.

“Thank you. Now I’m going to ask that everyone hold still. It doesn’t matter where any of us have to be in the next few minutes when you compare it to making sure everyone in here knows where they’re going to be for eternity.

“There are a lot of Christians in here—most of you, in fact. Many of you came to know Christ by coming to these meetings over the years. It is for those who do not yet know our Savior that we dedicate the remainder of our time together this evening.”

Brent felt queasiness return, and perspiration began to form on his brow and in his hands. What’s going on?

Bob continued, “I’d like for everyone in this room to bow his or her head right now; eyes closed.”

Brent glanced quickly to his right to see Coach Chamberlin and his wife bow their heads. He did the same. He was getting increasingly nervous. And now he understood why.

He recognized the awful presence, and he heard a confirming whisper in his mind. “Brent, don’t listen to this. This is foolishness.”

Brent forced his mind to focus on what Bob Naze was saying.

“Christians, I want you to begin praying for those in this room who do not know Jesus. Pray for barriers to be broken through and lying tongues to be quieted, in the name of Jesus Christ.”

Suddenly the nagging voices were silenced! Brent’s heart pounded. He was beginning to experience an entirely different power now. A power that could muzzle the mouths of his dark adversaries.

Muzzle? Wait...

His thought was cut off by the preacher’s next words.

“All of you here who aren’t quite sure what all of this is about, it is you that we are here for. It is you that we are praying for right now. And we pray for you because we know what Jesus Christ has done for each of us.

“Some of you here tonight are caught up in drugs and alcohol. Others of you are stuck in a rut of sexual addictions and perversions. And others of you are involved in some form of the occult—demonism, witchcraft, sorcery, divination, and the like. And there are also some of you here who have been struggling with the idea of suicide.”

Brent’s eyes shot open. He stared straight down at his feet, then chanced a look to see if his coach was looking at him. He wasn’t. He and his wife were visibly praying, their lips moving silently. Had his coach told this preacher about what he’d been going through? No. How could he? He didn’t know.

“Many of you men and women all over this church building have been going through such private hells that you’re scared to reveal the darkness behind your torment. But, listen to me. Jesus knows. He knows!

“He knows ... and ... he loves you still. There is nothing that you have done, and there is nothing that has been done to you, that has stopped him from loving you and wanting you to be his brothers and sisters, not to mention his friend.

“Jesus, himself, said that those who ask him to come into their lives will have a friend that sticks closer than a brother.”

Brent’s mind was trying to take this all in.

You want me? How could you? My life’s a mess!

“I’m going to extend to you an invitation in a moment. An invitation to ask Jesus Christ to come into your lives. But first, I want all of you to know what the Bible has to say about all of this. And to do that, we’ve got to start at the beginning.

“You see, the earth as we know it wasn’t always broken. When God first created it, it was utterly perfect. A perfect Adam & Eve had a perfect relationship with God. They all shared a perfect love. There was also no death, no sickness, and no sin.

“God had told Adam that if he ate the fruit of a certain tree that he would die. Later, Satan tempted Eve and told her that God was holding back on them and that if they would eat that fruit they wouldn’t die, but that their eyes would be opened and they would be like God. She fell for it and got her husband to fall for it, too.

“That first sin caused the whole of God’s perfect creation to shift. Death was introduced, both spiritual and physical. Chaos erupted in, and through, the first family. Every succeeding generation has perpetuated that chaos. Every murder, every misuse of sex, every false religion, every war, and disease … all of it … is a result of that original sin.

“Remember, I said that spiritual death was also introduced. You see, Hell was not created for man. It was created for the devil and his angels. However, God cannot allow sin to do to Heaven what it first did to Earth, so no man or woman, boy or girl, will ever be allowed to bring it in.

“After that original sin was committed, God took the life of a spotless animal, shedding its blood in order to cover the guilt of Adam and Eve. Scripture makes it clear; ‘without the shedding of blood, there is no forgiveness of sin.’ By doing that, God was showing Adam and Eve that he still cared about them; that they still mattered. He also showed that there was a high price to pay for sin: The blood of an innocent.

“For thousands of years, God accepted the blood of animals to cover the sins of people, but the sacrifices were only good for one year. Each year the people were again reminded of the high cost that had to be paid for what they had done. God, though, had a plan that would result in one final sacrifice; one last shedding of blood. This last sacrifice wouldn’t just cover sin for one year; it would wash it away forever.

“Listen to Romans, chapter three, verse twenty-three: ‘All have sinned and come short of the glory of God.’ Romans, chapter six, verse twenty-three says that ‘the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.’

“See? All of us—every single one of us—has fallen short. There is not one single person in this room, or on this earth, that deserves anything other than eternal punishment. No amount of doing good can save you. It is only through Christ, and the shedding of his perfect blood, that we can have salvation—the forgiveness of our sins that will allow us into God’s kingdom instead of Hell.

“Some of you have been beat over the head with religious dos and don’ts. You feel like God is up there on his throne with a big hammer just waiting for the next time you do something wrong so he can make an example of you. But, that’s not how it is!

“Listen to what Jesus, himself, said: ‘God loved the world so much, that he sent his one, and only, Son, so that whoever would believe in him would not know eternal punishment, but, instead, would know eternal life!’ He went on to say, ‘God did not send his Son into the world to condemn it, but that the world, through him, might be saved.’ Isn’t that great news?”

God, Brent asked, is this true? Really? A hope rose within him.

“Right now, those of you who want to know this God – this Jesus – I want you to raise your hands.”

Before Brent could give himself time to think, his hand was in the air. He was so shocked by his response that he actually looked up at it. He closed his eyes again, returning his attention to the preacher.

“That’s it. You, there, sir, God bless you. You can put your hand down.”

Did he mean me, Brent wondered? He began to lower his hand.

“And you, young man, you can put your hand down. Yes. God bless you. Young lady in the back, God bless. You can put your hand down.”

One after another after another, hands went up and were acknowledged, for what seemed like several minutes. Brent was stunned by the realization that he wasn’t the only one whose life was messed up. But, then, Bob Naze had said that everyone needed Jesus, right?

Finally, Bob continued. “I want all of you who raised hands to make a bold statement. I want each of you to slip out of your seat and come down here to the altar. Come on now, don’t be afraid. There’s nothing to fear from forgiveness and peace.”

And with that, the band began to softly sing.

Just as I am, without one plea,

But that thy blood was shed for me,

And that Thou bidd’st me come to Thee

O Lamb of God, I come, I come.

Brent couldn’t just stand there. He wanted to believe that all of this was true. But he was struck with a new fear: What if this didn’t work?

What if I go down there... Tears developed in his eyes. What if ... Oh God ... what if this doesn’t work? There’s nothing else.

I’ve got nothing else! God! I’m scared! Do you hear me? I am scared!

Just as I am and waiting not
To rid my soul of one dark blot,
To thee, whose blood can cleanse each spot,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.

With a resolve that came from desperation, Brent slipped out of the pew and walked the fifteen miles to the altar. He saw that others were kneeling, so he did the same. He looked down and saw a box of tissues sitting right in front of him. Good thing, he thought. But he was going to try not to cry.

Just as I am, though tossed about
With many a conflict, many a doubt,
Fightings and fears within, without,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.

The song—written just for Brent over a hundred years prior—came to an end. Dozens of people filled the front of the church. He could hear people, men and women alike, sobbing ... just like he wanted to do.

Bob began to speak again. “I’d like for everyone down here at the altar to look at each other for a moment. Look the full length of the altar area. I want you all to see that you are not alone when it comes to trials and complications in your lives. Now look up at me. I’m going to lead all of you in a prayer. I’d like for all of you to repeat it, out loud, as I say it. But I don’t want you just saying it. I want you to pray it. Speak it to God. He’s listening. I promise you, He’s listening. You’re not joining a church tonight, or some organization. Rather, you are beginning a personal relationship with the Creator of the Universe who takes a personal interest in you.

“Now, pray this after me: Father, in Heaven ... I come to you now ... broken and defeated. ... I know that I need you. ... I know that I’m completely lost without you. ... According to your Word ... all I have to do is believe and receive. ... Right now, I confess ... that I believe that Jesus ... was conceived in, and born of, a virgin, ... that he led a sinless life, ... and because of that sinless life ... He was able to take my place in death, ... suffering and dying for my sins, ... to make me right with you, Father God. ... Jesus, right now ... I ask you to come into my heart, into my life. ... Forgive me of all of my sins ... Clean me up inside; ... inside my heart, inside my spirit, inside my mind. ... Tonight I give you my life. ... I will serve you and love you for the remainder of my days. ... In your name, the name of Jesus, I pray ... Amen.

‘Amens’ sounded throughout the sanctuary. Brent found out that trying to keep back the flood of tears was futile. He grabbed at the box of tissues, buried his face in a handful, and he wept.

He wept because God had accomplished in him what he had thought impossible.

He wept because the fears and pains of his life were gently being washed away.

He wept because he knew, now, that God really was good.

He wept because he knew ... he was free.

THAT EVENING

HANNAH MOORE, LYING in the warmth of her bed, fell asleep, and enjoyed a full night of uninterrupted, peaceful slumber.